It's August 19. My last blog post was written 17 days ago. You'd think I'd have more to say in the interim.
But I got nothing.
I was going to share my thoughts about this tonight, but decided against it after realizing two things:
- I was talking about things I have no real-world experience with. My opinions of the things in question were formulated by me living vicariously through geeky blogs and YouTube videos.
- The topic has already been dissected several times today, by people with far better credentials than I'll ever have1. My take is irrelevant and regurgitative. It's just a lame variation of the same flavor.
But my problem isn't just the topic that I've somehow managed to unnecessarily shroud in mystery. The problem is that, for the last two-and-a-half weeks, I haven't been able to come up with anything I really want to write about, and it's bothersome. Sure, I've bandied about a few ideas, but they haven't been so compelling that I just must launch MarsEdit and get typing. I don't know what it is -- maybe this is just a short-term blockage and my creative juices will soon flow freely once again. Then again, maybe I'm unconsciously doubting my little corner of the Internet that no one else but me seems to care about, despite my insisting this place exists solely for me. (I never said I wasn't insecure. Sometimes far from it, actually.)
In any case, I'm not feeling like a writer right now. Except, you know, when I write about not writing.